Never Goes Away
by Klutzygirl33
Summary: Two days before Charlie and Zoey's wedding, she has a nightmare about her kidnapping. Charlie tries his best to help.


**I don't own West Wing and never will. No copyright infringement intended.**

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Zoey shot up in bed, gasping for air as she fumbled for the light. She sighed in relief when Charlie flipped the switch. "Nightmare?"

She nodded and pushed the covers off. "Yeah." Zoey didn't want to remember her kidnapping two days before her wedding, but maybe the stress had spurred it on.

"I'm sorry." He leaned over and kissed her before pulling her in for a hug. If Charlie ever saw the ass that drugged her drink he'd probably punch him (or worse). He was still furious about what had happened to his fiancé.

"Thanks." Going to therapy helped and the nightmares were few and far between now, but Zoey still lived with the trauma every day. She hated it.

"You don't have to thank me. You need a glass of water or anything? I'll go get it for you." He just wanted her to be happy again. He'd listen to her any time.

"Sure, that'll be great." Zoey smiled at him and then followed him out of their bedroom. She sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. Nothing was on, but it was a good distraction.

Charlie came back from the kitchen and handed her a glass as he sat down next to her. "You want to talk about it?"

She shook her head. "I can't – I'm sorry."

"Don't ever apologize for not being able to tell me something, Zo. I'll just sit here and watch TV with you." He clasped their hands together and the two sat in silence as they watched an infomercial.

Zoey slowly slid over to Charlie, and he opened his arms and pulled her closer. "I can't wait to marry you," she murmured.

"Same here. We wasted a lot of time, but I'm so glad this is finally happening." They had waited to marry until after Zoey's father was out of office so it wouldn't be a big deal like Ellie's wedding, but it was still going to be a pretty big wedding.

"Me too. But we grew up and matured and we're in an amazing place now." Zoey knew he still felt guilty about her father and Josh getting shot, but she wished he wouldn't.

"Yeah, you're right. So how are you feeling about becoming Mrs. Bartlet-Young?" He wanted to distract her any way he could and this way the only way he knew how.

It worked. Zoey rolled her eyes. "Pretty good, although I don't want you calling me by that name, Charlie. It makes me feel old."

"Sorry." He laughed at the look on her face.

"It's okay. I can't wait until I get to call you my husband. I hope our day goes off without a hitch. At least Dad won't get called away to deal with an international crisis like he did at Ellie's wedding." At least the wedding itself had been pretty fun.

"Don't jinx us!" Saying those words were tempting fate in Charlie's opinion.

Zoey giggled. "I guess I just did, didn't I? Oh well. I'm sure we'll be fine. It's our wedding day." She still had a hard time believing she was actually getting married. It was surreal and exciting.

"You're right. My bad." Charlie turned his eyes back towards the TV and waited. For what he wasn't sure, but he hoped he had distracted Zoey from her nightmares.

Zoey yawned and then leaned her head on Charlie's shoulder. "I love you."

"And I love you. So, who do you think's going to catch the bouquet?" He didn't really care, but he was still trying to help.

"I'm going to throw it so Donna gets it. I'm one hundred percent convinced she and Josh are getting married soon." She couldn't wait to go to their wedding.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Took them long enough to finally get together." It turned out Leo had won the bet they were running about Josh and Donna, so they donated the money to charity. It felt like the right thing to do.

"It really did. God, I swear that sexual tension was about to kill me." Zoey couldn't wait to be in their wedding (since Donna was a bridesmaid in their wedding, she was pretty sure that the favor would be returned).

"I don't want to think about Josh and Donna having sex." Charlie was getting mental images he really didn't want.

"Me neither. You want to go have sex then?"

"You sure?" Charlie didn't want to push her when she was upset. He could deal if they didn't have sex. Plus, it was late (not that that had stopped them before).

"Of course I'm sure." She stood up and led him away from the couch. They returned to their bedroom, but sex did not happen. Zoey was still exhausted from her nightmare and wasn't up to it. Charlie didn't complain because he was still worried about her.

Despite being so tired, Zoey had a hard time getting back to sleep. She kept flashing back to those horrible few days she was held captive. She kept tossing and turning. Charlie knew better than to touch her when she was like this and just waited it out. "I'll let you sleep in tomorrow."

"No, the wedding planner is meeting us at ten and we have a lot of shit to go over. I'm not sleeping in. I can't." Zoey sighed and turned around to face him.

"I can do that if you want me to – me and your mom. I'm sure she'd understand."

"No, do not tell her! She's only going to freak out and get mad at Dad again. I don't want that." Zoey knew her mom still blamed her father, and as a result, he still blamed himself. She didn't blame him, but he refused to listen to her about the subject. It was a topic they tried to avoid because it was much easier that way, and no one wanted to think about it.

"Okay, sorry. I just wanted to help." He felt guilty for pushing now.

"Don't feel guilty. It's okay, Charlie," she assured him.

Charlie changed the subject. "Our wedding is getting closer and closer now."

Zoey nodded. "Yes it is." After talking for about half an hour, she finally nodded off and had no more nightmares the rest of the night.

Charlie would always make sure that Zoey didn't fall apart (completely) over her kidnapping, and he'd comfort her when it got to be too much. She appreciated his effort and thanked him for it in several ways. And walking down the aisle and becoming husband and wife was an amazing memory neither would forget.


End file.
